


false prophets get buried alive

by j_gabrielle



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, Gift Fic, Light Angst, M/M, Operation Honey Pot, Wedding Day Badassery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-25 22:10:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13844049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_gabrielle/pseuds/j_gabrielle
Summary: Something must have seeped into the urgency of his lips, because T’Challa draws away, eyes worried.“What’s wrong?”Erik shakes his head, pulling him back for another kiss, this time careful. “I’m just happy to be married to you. That’s all.”“We’ve not been married for a day yet. Your feelings might change, my love.” He teases.Erik smiles, “No. Not about this. Never about you.”





	false prophets get buried alive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EmilyElm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmilyElm/gifts).



> For Emily, who made my March xxx

T’Challa looks like a god among men. Certainly, the way he is holding court in the middle of their wedding reception is definitely cementing the image in his mind. Erik smirks. He did good putting a ring on that.

“Your Highness.” Erik turns to see Agent Ross coming up to him accompanied by Nakia at his arm. “I believe congratulations are in order. Wow. This is definitely a step up from just being a regular schmo.”

Erik inclines his head. “I got lucky. That’s all.” He looks back at where T’Challa is, the curve of his lips turn soft and fond. 

“Well.” Agent Ross clears his throat. Nakia seems amused when Erik focuses his attentions back on them. “Whatever it is, I’m not gonna beat around the bush. We need your help.” He jerks his head at Nakia, and she takes the space on his other side. Together they lead him to a quiet corner of the room. 

“We intercepted this. A message from someone in the diplomatic circles plotting to poison the King.” Nakia activates her Kimoyo beads. “We tried tracing it back to a source but whoever it was covered their tracks well. We managed to narrow it down to one man” The projection flickers, “Him.”

“Nakia and I spent the last hour trying to collect concrete evidence. That’s where you come in.” 

“Me?” Erik raises his eyebrows. “What do you need me for?”

The projection flickers again, now showing the image of a plain looking girl and a contract. “This. One of the men had designs to push his daughter to the throne of Wakanda. Plans of which, your marriage scarpered. We believe that he is planning to act sometime tonight, trying in some way to pin the blame on you. In the chaos, he has contracted mercenaries to steal vibranium past the border tribes. We cannot let him do that.”

Erik casts his gaze out into the crowd, to where T’Challa is laughing at something someone said. His heart aches to be close to him, burning both in anger and fearful protectiveness. “What do I need to do?”

Agent Ross glances over at Nakia for a moment before nodding. She changes the projection. “We’ve discovered that their buyer will be Klaue.” Of course it is, Erik thinks with an irritated huff. “We were… Hoping that you could somehow approach him. Make it seem like you are Klaus’s agent trying to get him to sell it to you directly without the middle man. We will be looking for the stolen vibranium as evidence against him while you hold his attention.”

“But that would mean…”

“Yes.” Nakia’s eyes turn sympathetic, “It would mean that to all who sees, you’re plotting against the King.”

Erik considers for a moment. T’Challa catches his eyes from across the room. “Erik, you don’t have to do this. We can find another way.”

“But this is the fastest way, right? You said it yourself, they plan on sneaking it past the border and into the outside world. Once there, who knows where the virbanium will end up.” T’Challa is making his way to them now. Erik turns to them, “I’ll do it, but give me an hour. One hour. It’s my wedding day and I think I am owed that much.”

“Take as much time as you need, Your Highness.” Agent Ross says, bowing his head before leading Nakia away just as T’Challa steps into their space.

“Ah, was I interrupting something?” He asks.

Erik plasters on a smile, leaning easily into his arms. “Nothing important.” He whispers as he kisses T’Challa. Something must have seeped into the urgency of his lips, because T’Challa draws away, eyes worried.

“What’s wrong?” 

Erik shakes his head, pulling him back for another kiss, this time careful. “I’m just happy to be married to you. That’s all.”

“We’ve not been married for a day yet. Your feelings might change, my love.” He teases.

Erik smiles, “No. Not about this. Never about you.”

T’Challa frowns. “Is there-“

“My King, My Lord, the elders wish for your presence at their table.” Okoye interrupts. 

“Duty calls.” Erik laughs, hooking an arm around his. 

T’Challa studies him, but ultimately lets the matter lie with a kiss to his temple. “Come now, my Consort.”

They make a circuit of the attendees and after an age, T’Challa gets drawn into a conversation with the Queen Mother and her friends. Erik spots Nakia and nods. He slips over to where he has seen the target lounging by a potted plant.

“Hi.” Erik greets, tilting his head. “I don’t believe we have been formally introduced.”

“I know who you are, Lord Erik.” The man bows, smiling greasily. Everything about him gave Erik the creeps. Holding out a hand for the man to kiss, he represses the shudder that crawls up his spine. How could a man like this ever be parent to the plain creature from the projection. “Many felicitations on your nuptials.”

“Thank you. Have you spoken to my husband yet?” 

“No, but I’m sure he will be by soon enough.” The man grins, giving him a once over. And Erik knows that look. Knows it like the back of his hand. Instinctually, he juts his hip out, flashing that bit of his chest, flexing. Stepping closer to him, Erik leans over.

“But he’s not here now.”

The man mirrors him. “No, he most certainly is not.” He reaches over to touch Erik’s wrist. If anyone were to look at them, it would seem innocuous and innocent. But the way he runs his thumb up his skin to press into the inside of his elbow is anything but.

“I’ve caught wind of something that may interest you.” Erik flutters his lashes, parting his lips. Putting on the airs of someone affected. “You see, an old friend of mine with a particular interest in vibranium wonders if there was, I don't know, some way he can convince you to cut out the middle man. Sell it direct."

The man pulls back with a start. His hand on Erik shifts. Standing this close to him, his cologne is cloying. Erik tilts his head in faux demureness. The man barks a triumphant laugh. "I knew there was something about you!" He croaks, sneer wide like a gash on his face. Erik shapes a smile on his face, shrugging his shoulder. "You're Klaue's man, aren't you?" He wags a finger on Erik's face. 

The man leans back in, hand now bold and stroking up Erik’s hip. “So, our mutual friend wishes to cut another deal, huh? Well,” He licks his lips lasciviously, Erik fights the urge to gag, “I’m sure we can come to an arrangement. Or two.”

Erik feels himself physically repelled by this man. In that instance he knows he cannot continue with this. He can’t do this. Hang the plan. The only hands he wants on him is T’Challa's. He is about to turn and choke the shit out of this traitor when the tell-tale snick of vibranium claws slice through the air. 

T’Challa has the man by the throat, lifted off the ground. His legs kicking out uselessly as he chokes.

“I think it is time you leave.” T’Challa growls. The Dora Milaje cut through the crowd, Okoye at their head with their spears on the ready. But T’Challa does not release him and the man’s face is turning ashen. 

Around them, the din of the attendees rises. There are still too many eyes. “T’Challa... T’Challa!” Erik reaches out to touch him gently on the shoulder. “Let him go.”

T’Challa comes back to himself, looking away from the man. He drops him and immediately the Dora Milaje swarm over him and apprehend him. The Queen Mother calls all the attention back to the front of the room, assuring their guests. The music starts again, and scrutiny shifts to the way Shuri is setting off some of her new holograms. 

“T’Challa, are you all right?” Erik closes the distance between them.

The King frowns. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” He huffs, wrapping an arm around his waist, slotting their bodies together. “Ross and Nakia told me what happened. I am not sure I will be forgiving them any time soon for involving you.”

Erik smirks, body relaxing. “Don’t take too long. They just wanted to keep you safe.”

T’Challa sags into their embrace. “Can we leave now?” He asks, muffled against his shoulder. Erik chuckles, warm against his ear. Over T'Challa's shoulder, he meets Nakia's eyes. She nods.

“Yeah, lets.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from 'Bloody Waters' performed by Anderson .Paak & James Blake. 
> 
> The whole Black Panther album is just A+++


End file.
